Last Night By the Fire
by venom one
Summary: The night Harry and Ron have their small row after the meeting with Sirius, Ron sulks in the common room. Hermione, having heard the noises, comes to investigate. What-if scenario. Ron's POV. R/Hr. One-shot.


**Last Night by the Fire **

Rating: PG

Summary: The night Harry and Ron have their small row after the meeting with Sirius, Ron sulks in the common room. Hermione, having heard the noises, comes to investigate. What-if scenario. Ron's POV. R/Hr.

One-shot.   
  


Last Night By the Fire 

The chatter of the Three Broomsticks didn't seem as cheerful as it usually was to Ron. Perhaps it was because he himself was in a particularly bad mood at the moment. He ran his finger around the edges of his Butterbeer glass as he looked at the top of the smooth wood table; dully listening to the conversation going on between his brothers and their friend. They had a stack of papers strewn out in front of them and were making marks with their quills. Every once in a while one would prod the paper with his wand, causing a small array of sparks to fly. As Ron rested his chin in his palm one came up, bounced off his mug and landed in his hair; causing the several strands that it met to turn bright green. They looked up.

"Sorry 'bout that, Ron," Fred said, momentarily stopping his work. George glanced at him too.

"You know, I think it looks better that way," he said, twirling his wand. "If you'd just let me add a bit more…"

"I think I'll pass," Ron said. He glanced up as a small bell sound met his ears. Someone had just entered. It was Hermione.

She was walking oddly 

"Hey, there's Hermione," piped up Lee. "No you can have someone to talk to."

The twins glanced at him and Ron only continued to stare at the table numbly.

"No," Ron said shortly. "She's got Harry with her,"

"No she hasn't. And besides, why don't you want to be with Har – OUCH!" Lee exclaimed, rubbing the spot where Fred had nudged him in the side roughly to get him to shut up. 

"You can stay with us Ron," George put in, glancing at his brother and Lee quickly.

Ron watched as Hermione muttered something to her right and walked up to order. His attention was taken off of her as he noticed a table in the far corner's chair had just slid back by itself. He glared narrow eyed, as if he could really see that Harry was there. Ron really wished that Harry would just take the stupid invisibility cloak off and quit being so stubborn. It was his fault they weren't talking. Completely his fault.

Ron watched as Hermione headed back to the table with two butterbeers held in her hands. She stopped next to the chair and, suddenly, the Butterbeer in her right hand disappeared. They'd have to think he was stupid not to figure out what was going on. Ron had to fight his desire to go over there and knock some sense into Harry by kicking him in his bloody invisible shins. 

He stared back down at the table and started listening to the conversation that was going taking place. Fred, George, and Lee were whispering excitedly to each other, their heads bent in close.

"Maybe something that turns the victim into the other sex temporarily…" Fred was stating. George bit his lip.

"That might cause problems…" he said thoughtfully. "There's always the Cupid's Chocolate idea where the person who ate them falls in love with the first bloke they see…"

"Yeah, but we'd have to put a time limit on those or they'll be banned just like love potions…"

"Oh right, but that takes out half the fun,"

Ron turned his head and saw Hagrid trying to push his way to Hermione who still _appeared_ to be alone. Ron – suddenly very fed up with this – stood up and pushed his chair in.

"I'm going to go back to the castle, guys. Got lotsa homework to finish,"

George nodded in acknowledgement. "See ya, then."

"Yeah, bye Ron," said Fred, not looking up at him. Ron turned around and headed for the door. 

As he was leaving he saw Draco Malfoy chatting vividly with a group of Slytherin girl's all of whom, along with him, were wearing bright _POTTER STINKS! _badges. However, Ron ignored his sudden urge to go and ask for one. 

Back in the common room wasn't much easier. Everyone third year and above was out at Hogsmeade, so Ron was stuck staring rather bitterly at a bunch of 11 and 12 year-olds who were idly trying to pass away the Saturday by playing card games. He could always go up for a nap, or study in the library, and then there was always the option of visiting Hagrid. No. Hagrid was out. He was talking to Hermione and Harry and they were probably having an enormously great time without him. And Harry was probably just sitting all cozy-like in his invisibility cloak, sipping his Butterbeer, listening to Hagrid and Hermione and, completely forgetting he ever had a friend named Ronald Weasley. So this was how Ron was going to spend the rest of his life? Fussing over his stupid friends? Well, some friends they turned out to be. Hermione had completely deserted him. It was dumb. _He_ needed her, not Harry. _He_ wanted to talk to her, not _Harry Potter_. Harry could go find friends easily enough. Going around and flashing his scar about like he did, he could find plenty of people to hang out with. But not Ron. And now Harry was taking Hermione from him as well. 

Well, if he couldn't visit Hagrid, and he despised the library, it seemed that his only logical option was to have a nap. As a matter of fact, he did feel a bit tired. A nap would do good. He would go up, circle the days until Harry's awaiting death – now only three away – and he'd probably end up crossing off the November 22nd box early, even though the day wasn't over yet, just to have something to do. Perhaps he'd even take the liberty of drawing Harry being eaten up be some enormous skrewt or something to that degree in the empty box for the 25th that was merely labeled _First Task_.

Ron stood up and headed for the Boys' dorms. He was nearly there when…

"Ron! Hey Ron!"

Ron didn't bother trying to hide his shoulders from sagging. The Creevey brother's were always horrid when you wanted to be left alone. Colin constantly persisted Harry and his brother was about ten times worse because he did it to everyone. Honestly, how could that whole family be so damn cheerful all the time? 

Ron turned around slowly.

"Hullo, Dennis."

"Hiya Ron!"

"_Hiya_!" Ron mimicked quietly in Dennis' high pitch. Dennis raised one of his eyebrows. 

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing," Ron grumbled. "What do you want?"

"Well, I was hoping that you'd be able to teach me some chess strategies. I've seen you play before, and you're real good. Remember that one match you had against Harry where – "

Ron zoned out. He'd heard this story, only it being told to Harry – no him, many times already. Ron was surprised this kid was talking to him. Couldn't Dennis tell that he _really_ didn't want to listen to him?

The idea of going to the library was looking very appealing at the moment.

"… and then – BAM! – just like that you moved your bishop into place and as cool as anything said: 'Checkmate, Harry.' I wanna learn how to do _that_."

Ron, who had merely been nodding every once in a while, was shaken out of his stupor by Dennis' sound effects. 

So, Ron slowly – as if walking into a trap, followed Dennis over to the chess board. Dennis the whole while, was chatting freely about anything and everything. 

"Oh and Ron, I want you to meet some of my friends. This is Natalie, and over there is Simon, and to the left of him is Hugh. Guys, this is Ron Weasley, _Harry Potter's best friend_," he whispered behind his hand. Ron mumbled something inaudible. Is that all he was known as? Harry Potter's best friend? Oh great.

They started the game – Ron couldn't see how this was supposed to help the kid with strategies – and Dennis seemed more prone to talking than listening to Ron's hints. Ron usually loved playing chess and was glad when he could find opponents other that Harry and Hermione, but right now it was rather getting on his nerves. 

"So Ron, how come you aren't with Harry and Hermione down at Hogsmeade, eh?" he asked after instructing his queen to move to E4 – a fatal move. Ron only glanced up at him.

"Because I didn't feel like it," he inquired shortly. He stared at the board. This was probably the dullest game ever played in his life. He blinked, suddenly very sleepy.

"Knight to F6…" he watched the horse move slowly across the board. "Check,"

"Oh darn…" Dennis quickly told his bishop to come and block the move and then he resumed talking.

"Is it fun there?" he asked. Ron sighed.

"Yeah – Bishop to D7 – sometimes…"

"What do you mean sometimes?" Dennis asked, having to move his king this time to get him out of another check.

"What I mean is," Ron said after moving another piece, "Is that it _is_ fun… _sometimes_."

Ron watched as the queen was dragged off the board by one of his pieces – Dennis' were yelling at their owner now in fury – and he sighed and looked back up.

"That's checkmate, Dennis."

"Oh," Dennis looked disappointed. "Er… but what do you _mean_ by sometimes?" he asked again, this time more slowly – as if he thought Ron hadn't heard him correctly.

"It means exactly what it says, Dennis. It's not always fun. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't. Today… it wasn't. So I left."

Ron stood up now and was ready to just leave. He was sure if he stayed around much longer, Dennis would ask for another game. 

"See ya, Dennis…" 

"But how come Harry and Hermione didn't come with you? I thought you guys were –"

"_Good-bye_, Dennis," Ron said firmly.

Okay… so _this_ was how he was to spend the rest of his life. Forget worrying about his friends, Ron was going to be too busy playing extremely boring and unchallenging chess games with people three years younger than him. He walked away, ignoring Dennis' request for a rematch. Time for that nap. 

But half-way up the stairs something caught his eye. In the corner to his right was the area Harry, Hermione and he usually sat at; doing their homework and discussion the events of the day. It looked extremely empty and it had been a long time since he'd actually sat there with the two of them. He thought it was sad, really, looking at it. When would the next time they all got to sit there together be? Was there going to be a next time?

Of course there was. There was no use thinking like that, it wasn't very optimistic. Besides – Ron shivered – he didn't like the idea of never being with them again. However, he wasn't sure when that would be.

Deciding that his nap could wait a bit, Ron walked over and sat down in the large, cushioned chair that Harry often sat in. He let his arm droop of the rests and he stretched his legs far out in front of him. Ron stared into the fire and sighed, the flames flickered against each other rapidly and he felt the warmth spreading through out his body.

_This is going to be a long night…_

Ron woke up to the sounds of yelling. He hadn't been having a good dream. The castle was being attacked and there were dementors all around, sucking away at peoples lives. It had been horrible. The dark had been overwhelming. Ron had even encountered You-Know-Who. But that wasn't the worst of it…

Harry had died. 

Yes, and Ron eyes had snapped open so fiercely and his breathing was hurried. He remembered the way he had described it once…

_When he did _Avada Kedavra_, the way that spider just _died_, just snuffed it right – _

It had been like that… except worse. Because it had been Harry. His best friend. If Ron had been a girl, he would have been in tears right now. 

And the yelling hadn't done any help. It had scared the life out of him. His eyes went across the room to see what happened.

Colin Creevey had just ran in, screaming at the top of his bloody lungs, carrying a small box. 

"You guys, you _guys_!" he called out, slamming the portrait hole behind him. "I've got it!"

Ron sat up in his chair wondering what Colin was talking about. Colin ran – quite out of breath – to the other side of the common room where is brother and a few third years were waiting. 

Ron noticed that there were quite a few people back from Hogsmeade now. It must've been about ten o'clock. There was still no sign of Harry and Hermione. Where were they?

Dennis looked excited. "You did? What happened?"

Colin set the box on the table and opened the lid; his little brother peered inside. 

"Well… when Malfoy wasn't looking I just snatched 'em. Right in his lap, they were. But I was sneaky. He didn't noticed until I was already running down the hall. He yelled something at me but other than that, I don't think he knew what hit him,"

Colin grinned as he stared down at the box.

They were only Draco Malfoy's _POTTER STINKS! _badges. 

Ron sank back into the chair. False alarm. Those idiots. 

He watched as the two Creevey brothers began pulling the badges out of the box and talking rapidly. 

For the next few minutes he glared at them as they prodded the pins with their wands. He wasn't sure what they were trying to accomplish. Most of them were now stuck on a glowing _Support Cedric Diggory_. 

At that moment, Harry and Hermione walked through the portrait hole. 

"…Malfoy was muttering something dreadful," Hermione was saying to a very hurried looking Harry. "I wonder what he was on about,"

"Probably his hair," Harry muttered. "It's been looking off these days," he looked around but didn't realize Ron was staring at them. Harry looked down at his watch quickly before turning back to Hermione. 

"I'm going up to bed early," he said, raising his eyebrows a bit at her. She nodded.

"Yes, yes. Of course. I understand you're tired."

He words seemed to have some sort of hidden meaning. Ron scowled.

"Well, I'm off then. Thanks, Hermione," he flashed her a quick smile and then turned to head up t stairs.

"You're tired already?" Dean called after him. "But it's only eleven o'clock."

That night, when Ron went up to bed, he had it set in his mind that he was going to talk to Harry if he was awake. No. He was going to talk to him no matter what. Who cares if he woke him up. Their fighting was ridiculous and someone should finally put and end to it. If it wasn't going to be Harry, well – then it had to be him.

"Harry, it's time we had a talk," he announced quite melodramatically. "Come on, get outta bed you lazy git, I've missed you…"

He threw back the curtains of Harry's bed to find that it was completely empty. He stared. 

"Harry?" he asked stupidly. He looked around the room, now filled with Neville's snores. "Er – Harry?"

Great. Where had that idiot gotten to? He was always wondering off in the middle of the night. One of these days he was going to get himself killed. Ron remembered the dream he had had and shuddered. 

Well, since Harry wasn't there the only thing there seemed to do was wait for him to come back up. 

Ron walked down the stairs – as quietly as he could – to see who was making all that commotion. Perhaps he shouldn't be doing this…perhaps it was invading people's – whoever they were – privacy. But, he was much too curious to see if it had anything to do with Harry. He knew he shouldn't be getting into Harry's business, it really was none of his concern, but he was only worried is all. And, aside from that, he wanted to know what was going on.

He'd woken up to hear people talking and of course had to go investigate. 

As he neared the common room, he began to hear one of the voices more clearly. It sounded slightly familiar somehow…

"But you can do it alone," said the voice. "There is a way, and a simple spell's all you need. Just –"

The voice stopped abruptly and a very short but pregnant silence followed it. Ron continued walking but was extra careful with his steps. Suddenly…

"Go!" came a second voice. "_Go!_ There's someone coming!"

Yes, there it was. That had been Harry. Could the second voice Ron had heard be Sirius? It was very possible. Ron didn't bother to quiet his steps now and within a few seconds he emerged into the common room. 

Harry was standing in front of the fire, with a slight look of fear on his face, and his invisibility cloak still wrapped around half of his body. Ron stopped and just stared at Harry for a second. 

"Who were you talking to?" he asked finally, looking curiously around the room. The Creevey's badges still sat on one of the tables. 

"What's that got to do with you?" Harry said quite bitterly. He seemed – suddenly – very mad at Ron. It's not as if he had _done,_ anything really. It would do best for Harry to watch how loud he was talking when he was having private conversations with escaped convicts that you didn't want to be overheard. 

He continued rather sharply. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

_Isn't that what I should be asking you?_ Ron thought quickly. However, he just decided to pretend he didn't know what was going on. Maybe Harry would lighten up a bit then. 

"I was just wondering where you –" Suddenly, Ron didn't care if he had been talking to Sirius. Frankly, he didn't care what ever the hell Harry was doing here. For all it mattered, You-Know-Who could've been there and Ron would've been still happily snoozing in his bed, just not giving a damn. He shrugged.

"Nothing. I'm going back to bed." 

He was just about to turn around when Harry shouted something at him.

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" he said. Ron started, and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly. He could feel his face burning.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for you next interview in peace."

He knew that would get him. Of course, that's why he had said it, but he had never really expected Harry to _do_ anything. Instead of saying something back, Harry reached over, picked up one of the badges, and hurled it – with what seemed all his might – at Ron. Ron's eyes slightly widened as it his him in the middle of the forehead and bounced off onto the ground. 

It had hurt quite a bit.

"There you go," Harry said almost – at least from Ron's point of view – savagely. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky. . . That's what you want, isn't it?"

Ron stared, trying desperately to keep his mouth from opening in shock. Harry's words had hurt much more badly than the badge had. Ron was about to give a retort along the lines of that he would love to take Harry up on his suggestion, but Harry marched up to him and when Ron was certain Harry was going to do something – punch him probably – the only thing he did was continue right on up the spiral staircase to the boy's dorms. He hadn't even glanced back over his shoulder.

Ron stood there for a few seconds then bent down, picked up the badge, and walked – very slowly – toward one of the couches. Anger was running red hot through his veins at the moment and he wasn't sure how his friendship with Harry was ever going to be fixed. 

He just sat there, his head throbbing from the pain of the badge Harry had thrown at him. Slowly, Ron opened his hand and stared down at it. Its words flickered brightly. Instead of what they had said before – _POTTER STINKS!_ – it now flashed _POTTER **REALLY **STINKS!_

Ron thought it was a brilliant improvement.

With that in mind, he pulled it to his chest and attached it to the front of his pajamas.

Why was all this happening to him? Harry … Harry was his best friend. Of course, they had gotten into fights with Hermione before, just like the time in third year, but he and Harry had always stayed really close … until now. It was the first time that he and Harry hadn't been 'buddies' or chums' or anything of the like. They weren't a trio of friends any longer, now it was either Harry and Hermione or Hermione and Ron. And this whole mess – well, it… _hurt_. Ron missed Harry. That's all that was too it. He honestly really missed Harry. And it wasn't as if Harry was _gone_ really but for the first time he was just… not there. Ron couldn't see him, he couldn't play chess with him, or exploding snap, or set off Dungbombs in Malfoy's cauldron, and Ron certainly couldn't _talk_ to Harry. It would be too awkward, much too awkward. 

Just when he was thinking about going up and trying to talk to Harry there was a creaking on the stairs. Ron leaped out of the couch with the hopes that it was his dark haired, somewhat 'ex'-friend. However, it wasn't, it had been a false alarm. Someone was coming down from the Girl's dorms. 

Ron was slightly happy to see that it was Hermione. 

She was walking down the stairs in a dark blue nightgown, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands as she stepped into the light.

"What _is_ going on down here?" she yawned. Hermione opened her eyes and when she spotted him a slight smile went over her face.

"Oh Ron, it's only you. What was going on? I heard people… arguing – shouting more like it."

She seemed slightly anxious.

Ron could have kissed her. He just was glad to see anyone who was friends with him at the moment, even if she did seem a bit too tired to realize much of what was going on. Well, it _was_ almost two o'clock in the morning.

"Harry was just down here. I think I walked in on him having a conversation with Sirius,"

Hermione didn't look in the least surprised by this news.

"Yes I know," she said shortly. Ron sent her a look, so that's why she had seemed a little worried when she first came down. Probably afraid someone had seen. 

"And I suppose no one thought to tell me? I care about Sirius too, you know. I could have at least been informed."

"Ron – you know how stubborn Harry can get…" she said softly. He was just waiting for her to say the same thing about him. 

"But _still_," he replied. She came and sat by him on the two-person sofa and pulled her knees up to her chest as Ron scooted over to make room for her.

"This is all getting a very ridiculous. Harry _needs_ you, especially right now with the first task coming up," she said sadly after a few minutes. Ron scowled, still red with anger.

"Well what exactly is it that you want me to do?"

"Just – just go and apologize to him Ron," she said softly. Ron noted that the fire was casting odd shadows on her and her hair looked golden in the flickering like.

He became slightly indignant at her question, however, and glared at her. "Apologize! Are you _joking_? There is no way you're getting me to apologize to _him_. Not on your life!"

"Ron, don't act like that. You're being an idiot," she said. Ron looked at her. He would rather like her sitting here with him if she wasn't trying to force him to be friends with that… _thing_.

"And Ron! What are you wearing?!" she said suddenly, looking closer at him, her eyes on his chest.

"Something I found lying around," he said with a shrug.

"Ron, I'm ashamed of you," she said as she leaned over to unclasp it. Ron stared up at the ceiling and allowed her to do so. "Why did you put this on?" she asked. 

He shrugged again and instead of answering said, "We've just had a fight."

Her hands stopped suddenly. "You have?"

He nodded.

He felt her lean against him and she looked at him sadly. "Was it bad?"

He didn't want to talk about it much. It had been. The only thing he did was nod. Hermione's hand went to his.

"I'm sorry," she said, still leaning against his shoulder. Ron suddenly felt very warm and wondered why they didn't sit like this more often. Suddenly, Hermione's voice became serious.

"What did you do?"

"I just wanted to see what he was doing because I… I was worried okay. He hadn't come up to bed and I heard noises. And then," Ron felt his voice raising with heated anger, "I get down here and he won't tell me what he's doing and he chucks a badge at my head. And _he _has the nerve to put in some smartass remark about how I might be lucky enough to have a scar now. I don't want a _scar_, I don't want to be _anything _like him. I don't want to have anything to _do_ with him. So he can just," Ron then said something very foul and Hermione's eyes grew round with shock and perhaps some very slight amusement. Ron hadn't been able to stop himself from saying it but after a few second he realized that it was very unlikely for anyone to do _that_ to Professor Snape.

"Ron! I'm ashamed of you, he's your friend!" she said, recovering herself. He stared back at her defiantly.

"Well, it's true! He could and I wouldn't give a damn," he said sternly. Hermione only sighed.

"I know Harry very much wants to be your friend again. And you do too. This is getting preposterous, having to bounce back and forth between you two. I'm about to give up on the whole thing."

Ron stared at her disbelievingly. "Hermione, you never give up on _anything_."

She smiled. "That's true. But Ron… oh you don't know what's going on with him. He doesn't want all of this, really he doesn't," Ron scowled and didn't bother mentioning that he already knew that. "And, well – everyone is always looking up to him, always seeing him as this sort of hero, you know?"

He frowned. "Yeah,"

"Well, Ron, he's only fourteen years old. A teenager doesn't need that. We've got enough on our backs and then this gets shoved at him on top of anything else. And Harry has more things to deal with than any of us do. His parents, the Dursley's, Voldemort. And you know what people need at times like these? When they've got all this bearing down on them?"

Ron grumbled something and she gave him a small smile.

"Exactly. They need their friends. They need someone to turn to, to talk to. And now – above everything that I've just said – Harry's also got to deal with losing his _best_ friend. Harry and I may be close but Ron, I'm nothing compared to you…"

Ron's mouth opened in protest, "Hermione…"

"No Ron, he's able to talk to you about more things because you're both boys. You've got a special bond and if you're not careful you'll break it. You don't want to do that, _he_ doesn't want, and _I_ don't want you to. Because then I'd be losing both of my friends and we'd all be messed up in the end just because you guys were being too stubborn to forgive each other. You Ron, can realize that Harry doesn't ask for all the attention that he gets, that he doesn't want to be looked at or fondled or treated special because of who he is. And Harry can try and realize how much you have to go through, with five brothers and a sister and being…" quickly, she paused and avoided his eyes.

Ron scowled. "…And being poor,"

It seemed as if she didn't want to continue talking now. She let out a deep, slow, breath.

"I'm gonna go to bed. I suggest you do too, soon," she looked at him. "And please consider talking to Harry, will you?'

Ron sighed. "If you make me."

She smiled again. "Thank you, good night," she bent down and, before Ron knew what she was doing, kissed him on the cheek.

An unidentifiable feeling raced through him suddenly.

She took her hand off of his and stood up. He stared at her with his mouth slightly open. His cheek felt warm where he lips had touched him. 

The fire was still illuminating her face as she cocked her head to the side at his lack of a response. 

"Ron?" she asked curiously. 

He tried to recover quickly. "Yeah," Ron swallowed roughly, "good-night," he said quickly and leaned over, not thinking exactly what he was doing. Before she had the chance to turn, he kissed her. Right on the lips, not the cheek as she had done. He held contact for a second and then pulled away suddenly. His words were caught in his throat at what he had done. He could feel his face heating up and his stomach was doing something very, very odd. 

Hermione's eyes had widened considerably. Her cheeks were bright pink and she seemed to be trying to look at anything but him. 

"Er… yes… night – time for bed," she said quickly. Hermione muttered something else extremely fast, which Ron didn't hear, and then she turned around and took off up the girl's spiral staircase. 

With a lump in his throat Ron sat back into the couch. Something very odd was indeed going on with his stomach. And his chest for the matter. It felt as if someone was pressing down on it with a lot of pressure.

He stared into the fire, it's flames licking in bright colors against the bricks along the sides. He seemed to really need it's warmth now. Too bad he couldn't talk to it, too bad it couldn't hear him. It was time's like this that he really wished he and Harry were still friends. Times that he just wanted someone to talk to with. Talk about things like this… whatever had just happened. It had been nice. Would he really want to share that with Harry. This was something Harry didn't have. Harry had money, and fame, and everyone looked up to him. Even thought Ron hadn't known what had just happened when he'd kissed her or why he even kissed her in the first place, he was sure now that he wanted it all to himself.

He only had the fire to warm him and for the first time he wished Hermione had stayed a bit longer to lecture him. 

**Well, there you go. I hoped you liked it. I had fun writing it. Now your left thinking and wondering what would have changed in the book if this had really happened. Thankx to Angie for beta-ing for me _again_. Lol. Go check out her stuff if you've got time to. She's got original's (poems) and fanfics.  Now for a shameless plug. If you like me. Go read more. I've got five others.**

**Peace.**


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